


Something To Prove

by kenjideath



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Abusive Parents, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 14:32:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5500913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenjideath/pseuds/kenjideath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has a lot of opinions on Seth's life, for someone that fucked him before they even exchanged names.</p>
<p>[Note: the abuse in the tags is not for Dean and Seth's relationship]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Takeoff

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eric_idle_rules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eric_idle_rules/gifts).



> This kind of got away from a little? I don't know, I have no excuse.

The plane was a tiny little puddlejumper, the kind where first class was just three slightly larger seats in the first rows. Not surprising, really; there couldn’t be that many people flying from Pennsylvania to Connecticut at 4AM. Even this toy-sized plane was barely half full, and Seth was the only person in the pitiful first class section. Seth could already tell that it would nonstop turbulence all the way home, the plane lacking the weight to hold steady against any kind of strong wind. Hopefully he would be too exhausted for it to matter; he was dangerously close to falling asleep as soon as he sat down, even though his dad was still reaming him out from a state away.

“– far short of expectations,” Triple H was saying. “I don’t know why you pull stunts on this when you’re capable of so much better. Every time I think you’ve matured a little – ”

Seth massaged his forehead. His head felt like it might slip open. Triple H rarely raised his voice, but that didn’t stop his words from cutting hard and deep. Seth needed to hang up so he could power his phone down for takeoff, but Triple H showed no sign of slowing down and Seth knew better than to interrupt him.

Seth let his head fall onto the headrest. Maybe he could just hang up and Triple H wouldn’t notice. Seth had experienced plenty of lectures shorter than the flight between Pennsylvania and Connecticut over the years.

Suddenly, Seth’s phone wasn’t in his hand anymore. He jerked up and opened his eyes, worried that he’d drifted off for a moment and dropped it.

The first thing he saw was one of the flight attendants, a tall guy with a mess of brown hair and rough stubble on his round cheeks. He managed to look adorable and brutal at the same time. If Seth had known him back when he was young and stupid, he would have sucked his dick under the bleachers, no questions asked. According to the little nametag on his shirt, he was Dean. Most importantly, Dean was holding Seth’s cell phone.

Before Seth could say anything, Dean tossed the cell phone into Seth’s lap. “Usually I would give you shit for ignoring my very important safety announcements,” he said, “but it sounds like you’ve suffered enough today.”

Seth winced. “You could hear him?”

Dean chuckled. “People in the other terminal heard it. We can’t let you crash the plane just because your boss wants your balls on a plate, though, so he’ll just have to save it for tomorrow.”

Dean clapped Seth on the shoulder and strolled down the aisle, probably to harass more passengers. Seth tried to get his exhausted brain to process what had just happened, then immediately regretted it. He scrambled for his phone, and discovered that not only had Dean hung up on Triple H, he had turned Seth’s phone off entirely. Seth groaned and buried his head in his hands. He was going to get fucking murdered when he showed up to the office in the morning.

It ended up being very dark and comfortable in Seth’s hands, so he kept his face there throughout the shuddering horror of takeoff, the tiny plane jerking around him like it might fall apart at any moment.

Eventually, they hit cruising altitude and the flight smoothed out a bit. Seth pinched his nose and tried to breath out of it until his ears popped.

The hot flight attendant – Dean – dropped into seat in front of him. “Careful with that thing, we only have so much air in here,” he said cheerfully. He was kneeling on the seat so he could look at Seth over the back of the chair.

Seth gritted his teeth. Generally he was past caring about how big his nose was, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed comments on it. “Shouldn’t you be working?” he asked.

Dean beamed. “Not much to do on a flight this small, and you look like a man with a story. What’d you fuck up, Mr. Business Man?”

Of course. Life had to subject Seth to one last indignity before he could drag himself home. “I think it’s important for you to know,” he said, “that I haven’t been home in three weeks, and in that time I have visited five states, buying dinners and sucking dicks like a champ –”

“Actual dicks?” Dean asked, with undisguised hope. Seth tried not to read into it.

“No, it’s a figure of speech, don’t be weird,” Seth said, “and, after all that, I couldn’t get the most important client on board. And then _somebody_ hung up on my boss, so I’ll have to hear his lecture from the beginning tomorrow. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Dean curled his arms around the back of the headrest. His uniform wasn’t particularly flattering, but Seth could see the flex of his muscles under the fabric – he jerked his eyes away. Christ, Seth usually had better self-control than this.

“You couldn’t sweet talk one guy in three weeks?” Dean asked. “What, did you forget to cover your teeth on the downstroke?”

Seth flushed. Why did he make that stupid fucking blowjob comment? “I didn’t spend the whole trip working on the one guy,” he spat out. “I got the other eighteen. I’m not a fucking amateur, here.”

Dean let out a low whistle. “You missed one out of nineteen clients and your boss got that pissed? I was hoping for a real stirring tale of a bumbling fuck-up here, not a poor schmuck trying to please some kind of crazed perfectionist.”

Seth sagged down into his seat. It didn’t matter, of course – he was supposed to get nineteen clients and he didn’t, he was a failure any way you looked at it – but it was still nice to have somebody on his side for once. “Did I mention that my boss is also my father?” he asked, because if someone was offering sympathy, hell yeah he’d take them for all they were worth.

“Fuck, man.” Dean almost sounded impressed. “I’m a recovering drug addict who flies in goddamn death traps for a living and I still don’t envy you.”

Seth laughed despite himself. “Maybe I should have sucked more dicks,” he said.

“Hey, that’s something I can help you out with,” Dean said.

Seth stared at him. Dean wiggled his eyebrows. It looked like he was pretty serious.

This was a really, really bad idea. If he thought he was in trouble now, it was nothing compared to what would happen if he was caught fucking some random guy in an airport. Just because he hadn’t slept in thirty-something hours and hadn’t gotten laid in, shit, five years? Had it already been fives years since Kevin?

Seth looked at Dean’s twinkling blue eyes and made a very bad decision. “Where and when?” he asked.

\---

Seth waited nervously in the last stall of the airport bathroom that was closest to the gate they’d arrived in. It was pretty deserted – not enough people wanted to go Connecticut for the airport to be busy at night. Seth should probably just go – it wasn’t like Dean even knew who he was, really –

Dean ducked into the stall and Seth had him pressed against the door in seconds, already dropping to his knees to nuzzle at Dean’s crotch. “Hello to you too,” Dean said, but Seth was barely listening, preoccupied with yanking Dean’s pants open. God, it had been too fucking long since he’d sucked cock, his mouth was practically watering in anticipation.

Once Dean’s pants were down, Seth leaned in to suck the head of his dick through his underwear. It was easy because Dean’s cock was already thickening up. Seth could barely taste the salt through the cloth but it already felt _fucking amazing_ – Dean let out a low groan that Seth could feel vibrate through their close bodies and he whimpered in response. Fuck, how had he gone so long without this?

Before Seth could even get down to bare skin, Dean wrapped a hand in his hair and pushed him back. Seth whined. Now that this fire had been stoked inside of him, he wanted it _now_.

“Goddamn, beautiful,” Dean panted out. “I’d love to take your sweet mouth, but I’ve only got the one condom. You sure you don’t want me to fuck you instead?”

Seth’s inner muscles clamped down on nothing. God, yes, he wanted to get fucked, even if the thought of not getting the dick that he could feel right there into his mouth made his stomach twist a little bit in regret. Or maybe that was the sleep deprivation. He hadn’t even thought about a condom, he was just making bad decisions left and fucking right here.

“Sure,” Seth said. His voice was already hoarse. Dean pawed at him with wide hands, helping him stumble to his feet and face the wall.

They managed to shove Seth’s pants down together, and then Dean asked, “You need me to prep you?”

Seth almost said no, but thankfully he seemed to have some functioning brain cells left. “Yeah,” he said. “I haven’t taken it, not for a while.”

Dean pressed a kiss to the back of Seth’s neck. It was a surprisingly sweet gesture, given the circumstances, sending a little shiver down Seth’s spine. “I got you, babe,” Dean said.

There was the fumbling sound of Dean producing lube from wherever he had it squirreled away, and then Seth felt the cool touch of it against his hole. A moan punched its way out of him. God, he needed it right fucking now.

Dean sunk his finger in so slowly that Seth’s toes curled. The sting wasn't as bad as he’d feared. Long abstinence or not, he hadn’t forgotten how to do this. Besides, he was probably too exhausted at this point for his muscles to do anything but relax.

It didn’t take long for Dean to work him up to three fingers, stroking against his inner wall so sweetly. Seth was moaning way louder than was appropriate for a public setting but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Dean kept pressing little kisses to Seth’s back, his shoulders, his neck. “Can’t fuckin’ wait to get in you,” he growled.

“Then fucking do it,” Seth snapped back. Dean laughed, a brush of hot hair stirring the hair on the back of Seth’s neck, and then the hot crown of Dean’s cock was nudging up against him.

Seth took a deep breath and let it out steadily as Dean eased his way inside. Tears prickled at the corner of Seth’s eyes. It was _so good_ , he had missed this _so much_. After what felt like years, Dean bottomed out and Seth let his head thump against the stall. “Can I move?” Dean rasped out, and Seth practically sobbed back, “God, _please_.”

It was surprisingly gently for an anonymous public fuck. Dean gripped Seth’s hips tight in his huge hands and gave him slow, deep strokes that remade his fucking world. Seth was a trembling wreck, moaning almost nonstop and pressing his forehead into the wall. He wanted it to last forever, but soon his self-control broke and he dropped his hand to his cock, trying to match his strokes to Dean’s languorous pace.

Seth’s orgasm almost shook him to pieces, worse than the turbulence on the damn plane. “Oh, oh, oh,” he gasped out, and Dean bit down on the fabric of Seth’s dress shirt and growled his way through the shorter, rougher thrusts that signaled his orgasm.

Afterwards, Seth almost collapsed to the floor, but Dean caught him with one hand. “Jesus, my ego doesn’t need this kind of feeding,” Dean laughed. Seth just leaned against the stall and tried to catch his breath. Had sex always been that good? He honestly couldn’t remember.

Seth sluggishly pulled his pants up while waiting for the strength to return to his legs. Dean was already tying off the condom. When he was done with it, he just dropped it on the floor. Seth snorted, catching Dean’s attention. “Rude,” Seth said, by way of explanation.

Dean huffed out a laugh. He started tucking away his dick and Seth felt a little stab of regret. It was a thing of beauty, to be honest. Seth didn’t regret opting for a fuck, but he wished he could have gotten his mouth around that…

What the hell. This was a night for bad decisions already, what was one more? Seth felt around in his pants pocket until he found the pen he left there in case of emergencies. “Hey,” Seth said, and when Dean looked at him, Seth reached forward and grabbed his arm. Dean flinched back, but Seth was already flushing with embarrassment and aching to leave, so he scrawled his number on Dean’s arm as quickly as he could.

“Call me,” he said, and then speed walked out of the bathroom, ignoring the prickle of Dean’s eyes on his back.

\---

Dean didn’t call, of course. Hot humiliation filled Seth’s throat when he even thought about it. Maybe for him it had been special, but Dean probably did shit like that every day, probably found a new hole to fuck on every flight. Only a deluded idiot like Seth would try to turn a bathroom hookup into something more.

Seth dragged himself to work in the morning after a twenty minute catnap, took his extra-length in-person chewing out – Triple H was very disappointed in him, just because he was family didn’t mean he wasn’t replaceable, nothing Seth hadn’t heard before – and went back to his routine.

“This is exactly why I can’t keep a boyfriend,” Seth said to his dog Kevin, while eating takeout for dinner in front of the third Harry Potter movie one night. “My expectations are too high and I’m too demanding.” Kevin barked. Seth gave him scritches behind his ears. “You’re right,” he said. “You’re always there for me, aren’t you, buddy?”

Kevin jumped up and licked Seth’s face. It wasn’t another person there with him, but it was enough.

\---

Seth had had three serious relationships in his life. All three had ended badly, and every time it was his fault.

His first boyfriend – his first love, he thought when he was being sappy – was Marek Brave, back in high school. They were childhood friends and they just _got_ each other. When Marek had kissed him for the first time, pressed together in the mosh pit for some shitty local band, it had been as easy and natural as breathing.

Seth’s parents had never liked Marek. He was too common for their tastes, not the right pedigree for a McMahon-Helmsley, but Seth had been determined to make it work.

In their junior year, they started to drift apart, though, as Seth got more and more consumed with getting into his father’s alma mater. He got short-tempered and snippy and Marek started calling him less and less. When Marek was awarded an opportunity to study in France, there was no reason for him to choose Seth instead. He promised to call, but after Seth hugged him goodbye at the airport, he never heard from Marek again.

Seth was inconsolable for weeks. “Why didn’t he at least tell me to my face?” he wondered, blinking back tears.

“You know how emotional you can get, sweetie,” his mom, Stephanie, said, rubbing his back. “He just didn’t want to deal with you flying off the handle.”

In college, Seth had started to date Roman Reigns, one of the satellite cousins of the Anoa’i family. Roman was solid and sweet and more correct for Seth’s station. He always gave Seth his letterman jacket, even when Seth was transparently just pretending to be cold because he wanted it. He had some sort of moral problem with letting Seth write his essays for him, so they pulled all-nighter after all-nighter together, with Seth coaching him through between make-out sessions.

Once they graduated, Seth started working for his father and his free time evaporated. Sometimes he barely saw Roman for days on end, even though they lived together. They fought all the time; Roman wanted Seth to work less, to think about their future and starting a family, but all Seth could focus on was his career. It was almost a relief when they broke up, even if it meant Seth came home to a dark, empty apartment every night.

“Maybe now you’ll stop being so selfish,” Triple H told him, when Seth explained what had happened. “No one wants to be with someone who only thinks about himself.”

Kevin Owens had been one of his father’s special projects, an up-and-comer from Canada brought in to be mentored to glory. The first time Seth met him, he was eviscerating that smug douchebag John Cena in a staff meeting. Seth had adored him instantly.

They were together for the best five months of Seth’s life. Kevin was brilliant, a force of nature that crushed everything in his path, but he touched Seth with a gentleness he’d never felt before. They made people cry in the boardroom and they laughed in bed together and when Seth curled his head into Kevin’s chest he knew that this was it, that he was the one.

Seth didn’t know that Kevin was moving back to Canada until he was already gone. He didn’t bother to call this time. Seth knew what it felt like when people were done with him.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Stephanie said, when she saw his devastated expression as the realization set in. “You’re so clingy and needy. It would drive anyone away.”

So Seth didn’t date people. And it was good, really, that Dean hadn’t called. It was better as just a bright memory, untainted by the sting of rejection.

\---

Two months after Seth’s last orgasm with another human being, he got a call from an unfamiliar number. He considered not picking it up, but there was always a chance that it was the pizza delivery guy needing instructions or something.

“Hey,” he said into his cellphone, flicking through the channels for something to watch.

“Hey,” the voice on the phone said. “I fucked you in an airport bathroom a couple of months ago, how’s it going?”

Seth dropped his phone and had to scramble to pick it up. “You, uh.” Seth cleared his throat. “You sure took your sweet time calling.”

“I’m not generally in the business of calling people who’s names I don’t even know,” Dean said, “but I was in town so I figured, what the hell.”

Seth wanted the earth to swallow him whole. “Did I really never tell you my name?” he asked. Most of his memories of that night were kind of a blur.

Dean chuckled. “Don’t feel too bad, you were pretty out of it. Just had me convinced you gave me a fake number.”

Seth scrubbed a hand over his face. Jesus, he was botching this whole thing. “I’m assuming that you’re calling for a round two?” he asked, trying to get back on track.

“I need to get food first, but yeah. I was thinking we could take another shot at you sucking my dick.”

Seth wet his lips. That would make this entire painful interaction worth it, honestly. “Just come over,” he said decisively. “I’ve got a pizza on the way and I don’t feel like waiting.”

“Free pizza _and_ free sex?” Dean said. “It must be my birthday.”

Seth sternly told himself that that comment wasn’t funny _or_ cute and gave Dean his address.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few,” Seth said, already trying to figure out if he had condoms in the apartment. Probably not, and anyway he didn’t think the larger condoms Kevin had preferred would fit Dean, as satisfying as he’d been.

“One last thing, princess,” Dean said, just as Seth was about to hang up the phone.

“Yeah?” Seth said, trying not to sound irritated. Being impatient made him bitchy, sue him.

“Can I get a name yet?” Dean asked. “I’ll give it to you with or without, I just thought I’d put those days behind me.”

Seth felt his neck heat up. He went back through the conversation in his head. Yeah, he still hadn’t ever said it. What a fucking idiot.

“It’s Seth,” he said, long overdue.

“Pretty name for a pretty boy,” Dean said. “See you soon, pretty boy.” And Dean hung up.

\---

After fretting about it, Seth decided to run to the drugstore for lube and condoms. If he was going to have an ill-advised booty call, he was at the very least going to get as much dick as he wanted.

When he got back, Dean was sitting on the floor, leaning against the door of his apartment, the pizza open in his lap. Dean raised a hand in greeting. “Hey,” he said, around a mouthful of pizza.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” Seth said. He swung the plastic bag down his arm so he could unlock the door.

Dean swallowed. “’S payment for my stud services,” he said. “You get us goodies?”

Seth dropped the bag on him. “I didn’t get a good look at your dick, so I just bought a bunch of different sizes,” he said. Finally, he got the door open. “Did you save any of that pizza for me?”

Dean pulled himself up, holding the pizza box precariously, like he might drop it at any minute. “Nope, I ate the whole thing.” He shoved the mostly full box at Seth on his way into the apartment. “Do you have a Harry Potter quote on your wall? Because if you do, I don’t think I can get it up for you again.”

Seth kicked the door closed behind him. “It’s not a quote, it’s just an inspirational message,” Seth said. His “Study Like Granger, Protect Like Weasley, Live Like Potter” wall art was awesome and he would not apologize for it.

Dean flashed him a smile that made Seth’s heart skip a beat. “I _guess_ you can still suck me off, then,” he said, “but you better eat fast before I change my mind.”

“Fuck you,” Seth said and shoved a piece of pizza into his mouth so fast he almost choked on it.

\---

In the end, they hung around in the kitchen eating for a while. Dean lived most of the time in Florida with a friend of his. He had just recently gotten his GED and was currently taking some community college classes.

“What do you want to do?” Seth asked.

Dean shrugged, pulling all the cheese off his pizza and eating it in one big mouthful. “Don’t know,” he said. “’M still adjusting to bein’ all respectable. Don’t want to keep being a stewardess, that’s for damn sure.”

Seth thought about brushing his teeth before they moved on, but he ended up just downing a glass of water and saying, “Alright, drop ‘em.”

“Fucking finally,” Dean said. He shoved his pants and underwear down without ceremony. His cock was only in the earliest stages of perking up, but it still looked fucking delectable. Dean poked around in the bag of condoms Seth had bought before picking out one he liked. “Ultra-thin,” he said, jerking himself hard. “Wanna make sure I can appreciate that sweet mouth of yours.”

It should have looked stupid, Dean standing there with his cock out and his pants around his knees, but for some reason it was doing it for Seth.

Fuck it. Seth grabbed the condom out of his hand and slid to his knees. He gave that gorgeous cock long, loving strokes, until Dean back into the island and collapsed against it. “Oh yeah, sunshine, get me all nice and ready for you,” Dean panted out. Seth struggled to keep his hands steady as he rolled the condom on. Saliva was already thickening in his mouth.

The condom _was_ ultra-thin, thin enough that Seth could easily feel Dean’s body heat through it. Seth groaned over the first mouthful, already getting so revved up he was aching to put a hand on himself. When Dean’s cock was wet enough, Seth took him all the way down into his throat, and Dean’s left foot skidded against the floor, almost knocking them both over.

Seth gagged a little on deep thrusts and saliva wouldn’t stop leaking out of his mouth, but he couldn’t care at the moment, lost in the sweet rapture being full and stretched and sending his partner over the goddamn moon. When Dean came jerkily into the condom, Seth let out a pitiful whine. He didn’t love the taste of come or anything, but it was proof of a job well done and he missed it.

Seth had been half-sure that Dean would leave him hanging or maybe watch him jerk off, but before Dean’s thighs even stopped shaking he was dragging Seth into the bedroom. Seth ended up stripped down on his stomach, wailing as Dean licked him open so gently and thoroughly he thought he might break. When Dean used both thumbs to hold him open and give him deep, stabbing thrusts, Seth crested so close to an orgasm that the lack of one was almost a physical pain.

Seth shoved himself up onto his knees to get fucked, but Dean flipped him over onto his back with surprising ease. “Wanna see you this time, Sethie,” Dean panted.

“No one’s ever called me Sethie before in my life,” Seth gasped out. Dean, bizarrely, kissed him, a long, slow, sucking affair that made Seth grind up against him in desperation. “In, in, in,” Seth chanted, pulling Dean into him. He didn’t even remember what he’d been annoyed about, he just needed to get stuffed before he lost his damn mind.

The stretch was even better in this position. Seth swore that he could feel every millimeter of Dean’s cock sink into him. He scrabbled at Dean’s back for purchase, dug his heels into Dean’s back like he could somehow force him deeper.

“Take it so fuckin’ good,” Dean muttered in Seth’s ear. Every thrust rubbed Seth’s dick into Dean’s stomach and he could feel himself building back up to that edge. “Like to have you every day, fill you up and plug you so you stay ready for me. I’d give you all the cock you want ‘til you were too wrecked to spread for anyone else.”

Seth dug his nails into Dean’s back as he came. He struggled to hold back the noise that was trying to force its way out of his throat, but didn’t have much luck. Dean wasted no time shoving him into a better position to just pummel him, throwing fast, sloppy strokes until he grunted through his own money shot.

Dean collapsed directly on top of Seth, but Seth’s couldn’t bring himself to care. “Holy shit,” Seth said. Dean grunted in what Seth knew instinctively was agreement.

\---

Dean managed to get the condom off and into the wastepaper basket by Seth’s bed before he fell asleep, but didn’t save enough energy to roll off of Seth. Probably the right thing to do was to wake him and kick him out, but Seth loathed sleeping alone, had missed being spooned maybe more than he missed sex. He tried not to think about how pathetic he was as he tucked his head into Dean’s neck and guided one of Dean’s prone hands around his waist.

It was the best night’s sleep Seth had gotten in five years. In the morning, he made them both breakfast burritos before Dean went off to catch his next flight and Seth left for the office.

Dean gave Seth a friendly slap on the ass on his way out the door. For the next week, every time that Seth rode one of his dildos, he remembered that part of the night in vivid detail.

\---

Dean flew into Connecticut every Thursday night and didn’t need to leave for the next twelve hours. It was a dumb schedule, and it made more sense for him to spend his downtime with Seth than shelling out money for a hotel. The earth-shaking orgasms were just a bonus.

Having a steady “fun night” was good for Seth too. It comforting to be able to look at Thursdays on his calendar and know that it was one night he would absolutely not be staying late.

They always fucked, but they started talking more and more, too. Dean caught on to how much Seth liked to be spooned and didn’t mind holding him like that, speaking quietly into Seth’s ear until his low voice gave Seth the shivers. Dean talked about his fucked up childhood, his druggie mom, all the dumb shit he’d done when he was high. If Seth ever found out the name of the friend that Dean lived with in Florida, he would send he a fruit basket in appreciation of his services in keeping Dean alive. Seth talked about his career some, his exes. Dean laughed at him when Seth told him about how he’d wanted to get trained as a professional wrestler instead of going to college, but sobered up when he found out that Seth’s parents had made him switch from pursuing an architecture degree to getting his MBA.

“They run an architecture firm, though,” Dean argued. “You work in architecture.”

“I can do more in management,” Seth pointed out.

“But you liked architecture,” Dean argued, like it mattered,” and you hate managing. You said it makes you feel like your soul is bleeding out.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “That’s just the way having a career is sometimes,” he said.

Dean chewed on Seth’s ear gently, but he didn’t seem convinced. Dean had weird hang ups about stuff in Seth’s life sometimes. Like when they shared dating histories. Seth tried to act like his were funny stories and not things that still ate at him when he didn’t have anything else to occupy his mind, but Dean kept poking at it.

“Wait,” he’d say, curling his fingers around Seth’s arm, “if Marek just broke it off without saying anything, then how do you know it was because he was annoyed with you? How do you know he wasn’t just, I don’t know, guilty that he ditched you to go to France?”

Or, “Are you sure that you weren’t working too much because your dad’s a hardass piece of shit? Because your dad’s a hardass piece of shit. And only dumbasses have kids straight out of college, what did he want you to do?”

Or, “How can you be too selfish and neglectful, and too needy and demanding at the same time?”

“I don’t _know_ ,” Seth said. “I don’t make a habit of cataloguing my personality flaws,” (lie) “I just see the effects that me being a bratty pain in the ass has on my life.”

Dean’s hands tightened on Seth’s wrists. “Who told you that?” he demanded.

Seth squirmed a little. “Told me what?” he asked.

“Who told you that you’re a bratty, selfish, needy, pain in the ass who drives people away?” Dean asked. “Because that’s some straight up bullshit.”

Seth didn’t like talking about this, it made him anxious. His chest felt tight and it – it just seemed like something bad might happen. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Just drop it, okay?”

Dean did, but he clearly didn’t like it. Seth didn’t get him. Dean had had real problems in his life, poverty and abuse and undiagnosed mental illness. The fact that Seth was unpleasant and unlovable didn’t really compare.

A few months into their friends with benefits arrangement, Triple H called Seth into his office on a Thursday evening to tell him that the budgets estimates for the next six months of projects needed to be ready by tomorrow morning.

Seth was used to having such momentous tasks dropped on him at a moment’s notice and generally he didn’t mind – it showed how much faith his father had in him, after all – but it was a Thursday night and Dean had already texting him that he was on his way over.

“How important is it for you to have it by tomorrow morning?” he asked, running time estimates in his head. “Can I give it to you at night instead?”

Triple H scowled. “Do you have something better to do?” he asked.

Usually, that would have been enough. Seth would do anything for Triple H’s approval, jumped at any chance to prove himself, but tonight, just for tonight, he didn’t want to.

“I have a date,” Seth said.

Triple H’s face flashed an expression so dark that Seth cringed, a brief, instinctive motion. “I see,” he said, voice clipped. “With who?”

“No one you know,” Seth said. Tension pulsed in the room so thick that sweat started to bead at the back of his neck.

Finally, Triple H looked back down at the papers on his desk. “Get me those numbers by tomorrow,” he said, a clear dismissal.

Seth swallowed. He had failed. As usual. “Yes, sir,” he said.

On his way back to his office he shot Dean a text that read: **Sorry, need to work late tonight**. He was already steeped in boring numbers when Dean replied: **ok ill get a hotel room**.

Seth sucked his lip, then replied: **You can still stay at my place, get take out or whatever.**

\--- 

Seth didn’t check his phone again until he woke with his face glued to his desk by drool, only a couple numbers left to crunch before he could send this damn report in. Dean had written back: **thanks see you next week sethie**. It was sweet, and Seth smiled.

That was when things started to go wrong.


	2. Landing

Stephanie came to talk to Seth in his office on Monday morning. “I heard that someone had a hot date last week,” she said with a smile.

Seth wondered if it was too late to clarify that “date” was more like “weekly hookup with my friend with benefits who lives in another state.” He had a feeling that the answer was probably yes.

“I canceled to run some numbers for dad,” he said instead.

Stephanie put a hand on her hip playfully. “And why haven’t we met this young man?” she asked.

Because you would hate him, Seth didn’t say. “It’s not that serious,” he said, which was also true. “We mostly just hang out. I didn't see the point in dragging him home or anything.”

“You know how we feel about you keeping secrets from us, honey,” Stephanie said. Seth tried not to let his shoulders tense up. “And what were you going to do when he got fed up with you? How can I be there for you if I don’t even know what’s going on?”

Seth felt suddenly cold. “When he gets fed up with me?” he asked. He hadn’t noticed Dean getting sick of him. He’d thought that by limiting the time they spent together, only one night a week, maybe…

The look Stephanie was giving him was full of pity. “Oh, sweetie,” she said. “You know what you’re like. You’re just too much to deal with. And you’ve already started breaking dates to work. How much longer do you really think this boy is going to stick around for?”

\---

Seth’s mind buzzed for the rest of the day. He hadn’t noticed Dean getting annoyed with him, but he never seemed to notice this stuff until it was too late. He read Dean’s texts over and over. “ok ill get a hotel room,” did that sound irritated? Seth had been putting him out by bailing at the last minute. Was “ill see you next week” a jab? Because Seth was an unreliable shit who wouldn’t see him this week? And why “sethie,” why not one of the other pet names that Dean usually threw around like candy?

By the time Thursday came around again, Seth’s stomach was in knots. This whole time, he’d thought that things with Dean could be different as long as he kept it casual. If all they were to each other was a warm body and great sex, Seth couldn’t let him down too much. But what if he had? What if Dean just went home to Florida one day and didn’t come back, just dropped out of Seth’s life like everyone seemed to?

Seth’s chest was so tight with anxiety and his head throbbed with tension, he couldn’t imagine seeing Dean today. Dean probably didn’t even want to see him, anyway, just liked the convenience of the arrangement. Seth would just keep letting him down.

 **Maybe you shouldn’t come over today, I’m not feeling too hot** , Seth texted him.

Dean must have been in the air, because a couple hours later he responded, **you sure**.

Seth’s stomach as in knots. **Yeah, I’m not up to much tonight**.

 **okay feel better sunshine** was Dean’s response.

The exchange left Seth feeling drained. Why hadn’t Dean seemed more upset about Seth cancelling? Had he already realized that he couldn’t count on Seth for anything? Maybe Dean was just relieved to be rid of him for another week.

By five o’clock, Seth was exhausted. He just wanted to curl up in bed and never get out again. Stephanie poked her head into his office to say good night and ended up ordering him home. “There’s nothing here that can’t wait,” she said. “Get a good night’s sleep and come in early tomorrow.”

At his apartment, Seth didn’t bother to turn the light on. He put on _Prisoner of Azkaban_ and lay down on the couch under a thick blanket. He was hungry, but it didn’t seem worth the effort to order food. His brain felt heavy, not like he was tired, but like existing was too much work to bother with anything else. Kevin padded up to the couch and barked, and Seth dropped his hand to Kevin could nose at it.

Seth didn’t know how long he lay there for, but when someone banged on the door he almost jumped out of his skin. He wanted to just ignore it, but it was loud that it was making his anxiety ratchet up again. He dragged himself to the door, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, trying not to trip over Kevin, who kept running around underfoot.

Dean was at the door. Seth blinked at him stupidly, wondering for a moment if he’d forgotten to cancel after all.

Dean whistled. “You weren’t kidding, you do look like crap,” he said. He hoisted up the plastic bag he was holding. “I brought goodies. Go sit down on the couch and wait for me.”

Seth stumbled back to the couch, still feeling in a daze. He stared at the TV without really seeing it, more concerned with the sound of Dean puttered around in the kitchen.

Soon, Dean plopped down next to him. “Alright, I’ve brought the best of white trash home remedies. We’ve got chicken noodle soup, we’ve got Sprite, you’ve already got a blanket. As far as I know, that can cure anything.” He wrapped an arm around Seth and tugged him close to his side. Seth went easily, let himself curl into Dean’s warmth.

“I told you not to come,” Seth said, voice hoarse.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, ‘cause I was just gonna cool my heels in a Holiday Inn while my boyfriend wastes away in his nerdy apartment. Eat your damn soup.”

Seth blinked slowly. “Am I your boyfriend?” he asked, and immediately cringed. Well, he certainly wouldn’t be _now_.

Dean just laughed, though. “Yeah, dumbass, you’re my boyfriend,” he said. “C’mon, do you need me to spoon feed you?”

The soup was hot and mild and the soda helped settle his stomach. Dean’s thumb rubbing the back of his neck helped the tension leak out of his shoulders. When the food was gone, Dean tugged him down to lay with his head in Dean’s lap and stroked his hair.

“I’m not really sick,” Seth told him.

Dean laughed. “Trust me, I know from bad mental health days,” he said, which didn’t make sense to Seth at all. Seth didn’t have problems like that. “We don’t have to talk about it. Just watch your dorky movie.”

They lay there for a while, Seth’s eyes gradually drifting closed. “This movie really sucks,” Dean whispered, soft like an endearment.

Seth snorted a laugh. “Yeah,” he admitted. “It’s the worst one.”

Dean flicked him in the forehead. “Why are you making me watch it then, fuckface?”

Seth nuzzled deeper into his lap. “I love Sirius Black,” he mumbled. Dean started to laugh at him, but it wasn’t malicious. “I love him so much,” Seth continued. “I used to wish that he was my Godfather and he was secretly protecting me.”

Dean laughter cut off suddenly. “Protecting you from what?” he asked.

Seth was mostly asleep, but he tried to answer anyway. “’M don’t know,” he said. “When my parents threatened to send me back and stuff.”

Dean moved his hand from Seth’s hair to wrap around his chest, holding him tight in his arms. “Send you back to where?” he asked.

“’M adopted,” Seth told the solid warmth of Dean’s chest. “When I was bad, they’d say they were gonna send me back.”

Dean’s breathing sounded rough and heavy. “You know that’s fucked up, right?” he asked. His voice was strained and tight, but Seth fell asleep between one breath and the next.

\---

Seth felt a lot better on Friday morning. Waking up next to Dean probably had a lot to do with it. It certainly made it easier to shove down the dark thoughts that were always creeping around his mind, even if remembering how he’d acted last night made him flush with embarrassment.

Dean gave him a kiss on his way out the door, because Seth was heading out early and Dean didn’t need to leave for another hour. “Call me later tonight,” Dean said.

“Mmm,” Seth hummed into the kiss. “Why?”

Dean gave him a look he couldn’t read. “Just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

“Okay,” Seth said, even though he felt fine.

That feeling lasted through most of the morning, as Seth finished up the work he’d left the previous night and got started on the new day’s business. He was just thinking about breaking for lunch when Triple H knocked on his door.

“We have a problem,” Triple H said without preamble.

Seth snapped to attention immediately. Triple H never counted something as a problem unless it was very, very bad. “What happened?” he asked.

Triple H said, “We lost the Russo files.”

Well, fuck. Russo was one of their most important clients and they were presenting their plans for his new building on Monday. There went any plans Seth had of sleeping that weekend.

“Which ones?” Seth asked, resigned to his fate of reconstructing plans and numbers for the next several days.

Triple H said, “All of them.”

Seth’s stomach dropped. “What do you mean all of them?” he asked. His heart started racing. “We have hundreds of records for that account – and we keep backups on different servers, how could –”

“They’re gone,” Triple H interrupted. “I need you to fix it by Monday. Don’t worry, I believe in you. You’re the Man in this business.”

Triple H left, but Seth barely noticed. Reconstructing those files would be months of work. Getting it done in three days was, was impossible, even if he didn’t take breaks to sleep or eat, there was no way…

Seth stared at his computer. He needed to start right now, he should pull up the files, see what was missing, what could be recovered. Get some idea of the damage.

He couldn’t do it. It was impossible, he needed to start right away, he couldn’t do it, they were going to lose the account, he didn’t _want_ to spend the whole weekend struggling through this, he needed to stop wasting time and get started, _he couldn’t do it_

Seth shoved his chair away from his desk and wobbled his way down to the floor. He was drawing rapid, shallow breaths and his face was wet. He dragged himself under his desk and pressed his forehead to his knees, dug his fingers into his arms. A sob ripped its way out of him. He wanted to be sick. He wanted this whole thing to not be happening. He wanted to talk to Dean.

Seth fumbled for his cell phone and hoped frantically that Dean wasn’t in the air. While the phone rang, Seth tried to hold back his sobs. He didn’t want to come off as a fucking mess.

“Hey, beautiful,” Dean said, and Seth let out a ragged sob. “Sethie? What’s wrong?” Dean asked, but Seth couldn’t explain, couldn’t get enough air to form the words.

“Sunshine, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean said, sounding helpless. “Whatever it is, I can help you. Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have left today.”

Fresh tears forced their way out of Seth’s eyes. “You can’t, you can’t,” he said, “No one can help me, I can’t –” and Dean switched to just making low soothing sounds while Seth cried.

When Seth finally managed to calm down enough to explain the situation, Dean was silent for a long minute. “Okay,” Dean said. “This is some kind of computer error, right? Can you call the people and explain, get the meeting pushed back?”

Seth really, really wanted to do that, but – “My dad told me to fix it,” he said.

“That would be fixing it,” Dean pointed out.

Seth bit his lip. “What would the clients think?” he argued. “It’ll look like we’re irresponsible and weak.”

“It’ll look like computers are fucking tools of Satan, which everyone already knows,” Dean said.

Seth gripped the phone tightly. “They probably couldn’t push back the meeting that much, they need to move ahead on this project soon,” he said. “It would just give me more time to fail at this and more nights I couldn’t sleep –”

“Don’t think about that right now,” Dean ordered. “One thing at a time. For now, just call them and explain. See how much time they can give you, then move on from there.”

Seth made a conscious effort to slow his breaths. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He hesitated. “Will you stay on the line while I call them on my work phone?”

“Sunshine, of course,” Dean said. He sounded upset. Seth was upsetting him. More tears leaked out of his eyes.

Seth pulled himself back into his chair and picked up his work phone. He pressed the receiver to forehead and took slow, deep breaths. He needed to not sound like he was freaking the fuck out for a minute.

“I don’t want to do this,” he said to Dean.

“I know,” Dean said. “But you can, and it’s going to make things better.”

Seth’s head pounded. He called Vince Russo.

“Hi,” he said when Russo picked up. “This is Seth McMahon-Helmsley of McMahon Architectural Studios, how are you today?”

“Very good, thank you,” Russo said. “Looking forward to our meeting on Monday. How are you?”

Seth cringed. “That’s what this phone call is regarding, actually,” he said. He was amazed at how steady his voice was. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but we’ve been having some serious problems with our computers lately. Would it be possible to move the meeting between you and myself to a later date, so we can straighten out these issues?” Seth’s heart pounded.

“Tch,” Russo said. “This is why we never should have started using those damn things. A good old drafting table never turned on anyone like this. Ah, but you’re too young to remember. Let me see, let me see…” There was a clicking sound, probably, Russo checking his calendar. “How about the first of next month? I’m afraid I can’t go much later than that. We need to get the early estimates to our contractors.”

Seth felt dizzy. That was a whole three weeks away. It was still impossible, but –

“Thank you, that sounds perfect,” he said. “I’ll have my secretary contact your secretary to iron out the details. And let me apologize again for this unprofessional conduct on the part of my company.”

Russo laughed. “Oh, come off it,” he said. “We’ve all been there before. As if my contractors don’t cancel on me at an hour’s notice, the animals. And don’t worry about the presentation, I’ll understand if everything isn’t perfect. The preliminary estimates are the main thing.”

“Thank you so much, sir,” Seth said. “I won’t let it happen again.”

They said their goodbyes and Seth put his phone down in a daze. “I’ve got three more weeks,” he said to Dean. It still didn’t feel real.

“Told you,” Dean said. “Last semester, I handed in a final three months late. You’d be amazed at what people will give you if you just ask for it.”

The relief was already draining away. “It doesn’t matter, though,” he said. “It’s still not enough time. Even if I had months – there’s so much to do, and I still have to do my regular work –”

“Other people work at this company, right?” Dean said. “Get some other people to help. You’re a manager anyway, aren’t you? Delegate this shit.”

“No one will help me,” Seth said, automatic. “Everyone here hates me because I’m the bosses’ kid.”

Dean made a sound of pure aggravation. “Who told you that?” he demanded. “Has any one of your co-workers ever told you that?”

Seth blinked. “No, but –”

“Just ask, okay?” Dean said. “Just fucking ask. For me, babe, okay?”

Seth closed his eyes. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’ll try. Okay.”

\---

The closest office to Seth’s was Kofi Kingston’s. Seth stood outside the door for too long, clenching his fist, trying to work up the nerve to knock. What finally pushed him to act was hearing the sound of a trombone through the closed door. It was bizarre enough to cut through some of the overwhelming anxiety.

It wasn’t Kofi who answered the door but Xavier Woods, one of their newer employees. Seth could see Kofi behind him with Big E “No one seems to know his actual first name” Langston. There were tinfoil-wrapped sandwiches spread out on the desk, so they were probably on their lunch break. Xavier was also holding a trombone. Seth decided not to ask.

“Hey, it’s the Manager!” Xavier said. “What’s up, Manager? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Seth licked his lips. “There’s a problem,” he said. He explained.

Big E whistled. “That is a pretty pickle,” he said.

Xavier clapped Seth on the shoulder. “We got your back, Manager!” he said. “I’ll go see what I can recover. Kofi can start crunching the numbers, E will get on the phone and see if anyone has backups on their personal computes. You can start working on the plans themselves – you were some kinda design prodigy before you got promoted to management, right, Manager?”

Seth blinked. Surely it wasn’t that easy. “Not really,” he said without thinking. “Are you sure you can help? If you have other work to do –”

Xavier gave him a thumbs up. “Ain’t nothing in the company more important than this right now,” he said. Kofi and Big E were already getting up in the background, shoving the remains of their lunch in their mouths and hopping to their assigned tasks. “We got your back, Manager, don’t sweat it.”

\---

The next three weeks were hellish, but less hellish than Seth had thought they would be. Xavier managed to recover most of the files. It was only the most recent stuff that was still missing, which was of course what they needed the most, but it wasn’t so bad with three people to help. Big E found the last people who had worked on the project and got their personal notes and such, so it was a simply matter of reconstructing the work that had been lost. Kofi took over the financial aspect and wouldn’t give it up, so Seth spent most of the time redrawing the plans themselves. That was a bright spot – Seth really did love architecture, found it soothing to plan out a building, to measure and remeasure and write every last detail down.

Seth’s instinct during crunch time was always to give up on things like eating and sleeping, but Xavier and E and Kofi weren’t having any of that. One of them was always there to shove a sandwich into his hand or to push him at the couch in the break room with a blanket and strict orders to not come out for a few hours. Seth even managed to spend a few nights in his own bed at home, a miracle if he’d ever seen one.

They weren’t quite done when the meeting rolled around, but Russo didn’t even notice. He loved what they’d done, shook everyone’s hand and said it was always a pleasure to work with them. The first thing Seth did, when he collapsed in his office afterward, was submit proposals for all three of them to be promoted.

“That was a fucking nightmare and half,” Seth said to Dean that Thursday, the first time they’d seen each other since the whole thing started, although Seth had called him every twenty-four hours or so. Dean had gotten time off and didn’t have to leave until Monday, and Seth was looking forward to getting his fill of human contact and approval. They’d already gotten started by lying in bed together, half naked and touching everywhere they could.

“What did your dad have to say about it?” Dean asked.

Seth sighed. “He wasn’t happy about moving the meeting back or involving other people in the company,” he said. “He doesn’t like it when we look weak. But he couldn’t really complain about the results, so we’re good, mostly.”

Dean’s grip on Seth’s hand suddenly went tight. Seth flinched, and Dean immediately relaxed his.

“Seth… “ Dean started, and Seth didn’t want to hear it.

“Can you just drop it for five minutes?” Seth snapped, and he could already feel the argument coming on when an unfamiliar ringtone went off. Seth blinked and stared at the heap of clothes on the floor, trying to figure out exactly where it was coming from.

“That’s me,” Dean said, and he rolled out of bed to rescue his phone from his pants. He came right back and sat against the headboard, tugging Seth over to sit between his legs. In Seth’s experienced opinion, these were not actions that usually preceded a screaming fight.

“It’s my roommate, I’m gonna take it,” Dean said. He accepted the Facetime request and there on the phone appeared Roman Reigns.

Seth physically recoiled. Was this fucking shit he didn’t want to confront day? Could he really not five minutes off between one crisis and the next?

And how goddamn unlucky did you have to be for your boyfriend’s only friend to be your ex-almost-fiancé?

It was kind of a relief that Roman seemed as shocked as he was. “Seth?” he said. “Why are you with Dean? Oh my god, are you the guy Dean’s been seeing?” Roman’s eyes widened. “You let Dean talk you into having sex in a bathroom stall? Do you know how risky that was?” The last part was practically a hiss. Seth buried his face in his hands. He was already done with this conversation.

Dean, of course, found this hilarious. “Hooooly shit,” he said. “Which one of Seth’s awful ex’s are you? No, no, don’t tell me – you’re the one that wanted to get married and start popping out kids straight out of college, right? I keep telling you, you’re too much of a badass to have such a boner for commitment.”

Seth risked a peek through his fingers. Roman looked… embarrassed? Maybe? Flustered, definitely.

“We were young and stupid and under a lot of family pressure, okay?” Roman said. Yeah, he definitely sounded defensive. “We didn't know what the hell we were doing in a relationship. We weren’t even smart enough to break it off when it was obvious things weren’t working. We just kept butting heads until the friendship wasn’t even salvageable.”

Seth lowered his hands slowly. On the tiny screen, Roman rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar nervous gesture. “I’ve never apologized to you for all that, have I?” Roman said.

Seth cleared his throat. “No,” he said. “No, you don’t need to, if anyone should –”

Roman was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even start. We were both dumb as a pile of bricks. I guess we ended up in the same family anyway, right?” Roman smiled and Seth felt himself flush, suddenly conscious of the fact that from Roman’s viewpoint, he and Dean looked naked and rumpled and extremely post-coital.

“You had something to tell me, big guy?” Dean asked.

Roman quirked a smile at them. “Nothing that can’t wait. I’ll leave you to it. Don’t be a stranger, Seth. I’d hate to go another seven years without talking to you.”

“Bye,” Seth said, belatedly, as Dean ended the call. His brain was whirling to fast to follow. Was Roman bullshitting him? But, no, Roman didn’t lie, and anyway he was terrible at it. And clearly he loved Dean – wouldn’t he be more likely to warn him off, let him know that Seth was a shitty boyfriend? Seth felt anxious and sick. He pushed himself out of bed.

Dean reached for his wrist, but Seth shook him off. “I just.” Seth swallowed. “I need a minute.”

For a moment, Dean said nothing. Then he pressed a palm to Seth’s back, a gentle reassurance. “I’ll be here,” he said.

Seth went to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror, examined every detail of his face. That person wasn’t who he saw when he closed his eyes. His head was full of lies and he didn’t want to know who had put them there.

It was a long time later when Seth left the bathroom. He had splashed cold water on his face, but held no illusions that it disguised the fact that he had been crying. Dean didn’t ask, just moved the blankets aside, inviting Seth to curl up against him again.

Seth plucked Dean’s phone of his hand without asking. He pulled up the browser and searched “marek brave phone number.” He dialed. He waited and counted rings.

Marek picked up. He was very happy to hear from Seth. He apologized for falling out of contact, talked about how he’d tried to find Seth’s number a few times over the years.

The trip to France had been funded by a non-profit that Seth recognized as a minor off-shoot of the Helmsley Foundation. It had lasted twice as long as they had been told, and Marek hadn’t gotten back to the states until after Seth had left for college. He had called frequently at first, but Seth never seemed to be around. Eventually, Marek had let it go.

Marek was married and had a baby boy. He had moved to Iowa. He was happy. They made arrangements to call again and have a longer chat. Seth hung up.

Dean wrapped both arms around Seth and pulled him in tight to his chest. “I wasn’t allowed to have a cell phone until I left for college,” Seth said. Dean pressed a comforting kiss to his ear.

Seth still knew Kevin’s number by heart. Kevin didn’t bullshit him, never had, it was part of Seth had loved about him. “Your dad offered me a VP position in the Montreal branch if I dropped you,” he said, no hesitation. “I agonized over it for a while, but I knew you could never respect a man who turned it down, and you deserved a man who would never have considered it for a second.”

When the conversation was over, Seth was crying again. “I don’t understand,” he said, even though part of him did.

“If you were isolated, you were easier to manipulate,” Dean said. Dean was petting him gently again, but also trembling with barely contained rage. “A boyfriend, a work friend, was someone who could see what they were doing. Give you back some kind of self-worth.”

“They never laid a hand on me,” Seth said. “They spoiled me. I never wanted for anything.” They were old arguments, ones he had had with himself many times. He was lucky. Plenty of kids never got adopted, or went to sick people who hurt them. He was lucky to have a rich mommy and daddy who loved him. He was lucky.

“As someone who did get hit, and froze my ass off every winter, and never had enough food to eat,” Dean said, “I can tell you that none of that fucked me up as much as being told every day that I was a broken mistake who had ruined my mother’s life.”

Seth let out a shaky exhale. “I don’t know what to do with this,” he said.

Dean cupped a hand on his face and turned him, pressed their foreheads together and looked him in the eye. “Move in with me,” Dean said.

Seth breathed in Dean’s air and thought about dropping everything to move to Florida. Quitting his job, selling the apartment, making poor Kevin get on a plane. He’d never been to Florida before. He didn’t even know if there were any architecture firms in Pensacola.

“Okay,” Seth said, and moved forward to meet Dean halfway.


	3. Epilogue

“You ready?” Dean asked. He was doing the jerky dance he did sometimes when he was nervous or uncomfortable or happy. Seth was guessing it was the first thing, because they were in a courthouse, but there was nothing to worry about today.

“Yup,” Seth said. He smoothed out the paper he was going to submit, the name change petition he had agonized over. “There’s still time to make it Ambrose instead, you know.”

Dean shifted his gum to the other side of his mouth. “Nah,” he said. “I like the idea of this being for you, not us.”

Seth liked that idea too, even if he hadn’t thought of articulating it in just that way. He liked a lot of things about his life, now. He liked living in Pensacola, even if it was hotter than any place had a right to be. He liked working in architecture, not business, even if it meant being lower down on the totem pole than he was used to. He liked having a standing phone date with Marek and he liked favoriting Kevin’s tweets and he liked having Roman over for dinner. He liked his new apartment, small and cluttered as it was, because Dean was in it and it felt like home.

He even liked his therapist okay, when she wasn't making him think about things that ripped him up inside.

"Anyway," Dean added, "we need to save that for when I talk you into marrying me."

Seth felt the back of his neck heat up. As if that was going to take much convincing. “You’re sure it’s not too dorky?” Seth asked, trying to get back on topic. They were next in line now. “I want you to still be able to get it up for me, after all.”

Dean snorted. “I let you hang that ugly quote up in the bedroom, didn’t I?” he asked. “Soon I won’t be able to come unless you’re whispering Latin into my ear.”

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” Seth stage whispered.

Dean let out an exaggerated moan. “Oh, Mr. Black, take me now,” he groaned.

The county clerk gave a disapproving cough. It was their turn. Dean grinned cheekily, and Seth couldn’t help but smile back.

“Not quite yet,” he said.

The clerk cleared his throat. “Are you ready to move on?” he asked.

Seth felt weirdly light as he slid the form through the window, knowing how close he was to leaving the McMahon-Helmsley name behind forever; knowing that his life as Seth Black was just beginning.

“Yeah,” he said, slowly, tasting the words. "Yeah, I think I am.”


End file.
